


The Ethics of Want

by exarite



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Tom Riddle, Breeding, Dominant Bottom, Dubious Consent, Impregnation, Light daddy kink, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Somnophilia, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Rimming, Topping from the Bottom, submissive top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 18:02:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18554956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exarite/pseuds/exarite
Summary: Omega Tom Riddle gets who he wants, what he wants, when he wants.What he wants now?Harry Potter, Albus's divorced Alpha father and 25 years his senior.





	The Ethics of Want

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt: A/B/O AU. Tom is a dominant Omega who loves to use his pheromones to gain control, and Harry is a submissive Alpha who loves getting his knot milked and played with. 
> 
> Brief mentions of Teddy/James, implied Scorbus, and non-explicit mentions of past Ginny/Harry
> 
> also, check end notes for TW
> 
> And!!! Thank you so much to StarsandHeavyRain for the beta <3

“Tom, this is my dad.”

Tom looked up and—

 _Oh_ , he thought. He _wanted_.

His heart didn’t skip a beat, or anything irritatingly idiotic like that, no. He inhaled subtly, taking in Albus Potter's father. It was simple biology, a combination of scent and aesthetic. They were compatible in the basest way, as Alpha and Omega, and that was that.

It wasn’t one-sided either, Tom immediately noted, smugly pleased. He saw it clearly in the way Mr. Potter— _call me Harry,_ he had said—had momentarily stiffened, his nostrils flaring as he took in Tom’s scent, the pupils in his eyes blowing wide as they instinctively dropped down to Tom’s bare, unmarked neck. He wanted too.

It only took another split second before Tom ran through his options. Harry Potter was fit. Attractive. Influential. Powerful.

Yes, Tom thought idly as he delicately took Harry’s frozen hand, calloused against Tom’s manicured fingers. He’d do quite nicely. Tom had been looking for a possible mate.

It was simple to Tom, really. It was an easy expression and fulfillment of his id. Freud defined the id as instincts of man, the Omega or the Alpha inside. _I want, and so I take._ There was no room for maybe’s, or _should I, would I, can I?_

It was supposed to be simple. After all, Alphas were almost boringly, _laughingly_ simple. Tom had learned how to play them long ago.

And he did it now.

He tilted his head demurely, exposing the attractive, vulnerable part of his neck where he knew he smelled sweetest. He looked up through his eyelashes, soft and coy in the way Alphas always fell over themselves for. Benignly, dumbly submissive.

Tom knew what he looked like; he had practiced it enough in the mirror.

Something flashed in Harry Potter’s eyes, and then it was gone. He...He looked disappointed.

Tom faltered, confused.

The frozen expression on Harry’s face lifted and he smiled at Tom, friendly now, all hints of his burgeoning attraction squashed and gone. Like a regular old dad of a friend. He shook Tom’s hand and let go, uncaring and unbothered to make it linger even a second longer than appropriate.

“Great to meet you,” Harry said cheerfully. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Al.”

He looked away from Tom, no longer interested, and Tom knew then that somewhere, somehow, he had made a mistake. Tom stared at Harry's back, stunned. He knew what Alphas liked. He knew how to work them.

But for some reason…his usual tricks hadn’t worked on Harry Potter. For some reason, Tom's submissive farce had done the complete opposite of what it had been intended to do.

Why?

*

"So what are you doing here again?" James Sirius asked him, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. It was just the two of them for now, Albus and his father still asleep. James had grudgingly brought out a tea set. It was a little watery, but Tom certainly wasn't here for the tea _or_ for James.

Tom sniffed and held up his hand, checking over his fingernails as he affected boredom. James Sirius was older than him by a year, 19 and freshly mated. He was the sort that most parents would be embarrassed by, just a little too wild and outspoken and loud. It certainly didn't help that he was an Omega.

Any other respectable pureblood parent would have put a stop to his behavior, but most everyone had expected James to be an Alpha, just like his father and his father's father. Tom supposed that either way though, Ginny Potter née Weasley and Harry Potter didn't care much for what was respectable, considering that they were an Alpha-Alpha pair.

“He prefers Alphas,” Al had told him just yesterday after Harry had left them to themselves. “Didn’t I tell you my Mum’s an Alpha?"

Yes, but Tom hadn’t cared then so he hadn't bothered to remember.

"He's dated a few Omegas though, I think," Al had continued thoughtfully, and cold determination settled itself in Tom's chest. Good. It wasn't a complete lost cause then. At the expression on his face, Al had paused and then had shot him a suspicious look. "I swear, if you're going to try something on my dad, I'm complaining to Scorpius."

Tom had ignored him, turning away, his lips pursed. He just needed to try harder, he had thought then.

This was him now, trying harder.

"I'm going to have breakfast," he said simply, reigning in his smirk. If he happened to be wearing something particularly scandalous and skin-baring, his neck and his shoulders almost fully exposed, well, he was in his sleepwear and that was easily explained. And if his natural scent today was stronger than appropriate? It was early in the morning. He hadn't had the time to shower yet.

James frowned at him but warily settled back into his seat. If anyone was going to see through his tricks, it certainly wouldn't be James. He was a Gryffindor, after all. He had no concept of using his pheromones and his sex to advantage, which was certainly a shame.

Contrary to popular belief, Tom, in fact, hadn't been disappointed at all when he had presented as an Omega a few years back. He had only cared so far as to wonder what he could use it for, and as it turned out? There was plenty.

Alphas could be a slave to their biology, just as much, sometimes more than Omegas were, and what separated them both from base animals was self-control, plain and simple.

And _that_ , Tom had.

What he was hoping for now, was that Albus's father had much less than he did. He had done his research. Harry Potter was a textbook example of a Gryffindor. He was reckless to an almost alarming degree, running half the time on pure instinct. It would have harmed his chances for Head Auror if he hadn't been so powerful, or his instincts so good and well-honed for battle.

Tom was betting on Harry Potter just not being able to help himself. A little push, a little skin, and theoretically, Harry would pounce. Tom sipped his tea, hiding his smirk. If Tom happened to not be on suppressants or birth control, that was just an _unfortunate_ surprise. Of course, the honorable thing for Mr. Potter to do then would be to make an honest man out of Tom.

It was much better for everyone involved that Ginny Potter was already out of the picture, off with another woman. She certainly wouldn't have been enough to stop Tom. Enough to reconsider, but ultimately? Tom wanted Harry Potter, and he would have him.

Harry Potter stumbled into the Potter dining room, yawning as he rubbed his eyes. He walked past his son and Tom, not even looking. He waved his hand, and Tom watched in interest as things started flying out of the cupboards, the refrigerator, eggs and meat and pans and pots in mid-air, all held up by Harry's effortless, wandless magic.

"Morning, James. Al, you're up early," Harry said, turning to face the two of them. Tom blinked back at him.

Harry froze. The food and the pans abruptly dropped.

James yelped, just barely flinging out his wand and catching them before they hit the floor. The eggs hovered an inch above the ground. Tom took another sip of his tea.

"Dad!" James said, and Harry flushed a deep red.

"Sorry," he muttered. He looked away from Tom, and with another wave of his wand, everything settled into their proper place. The back of his neck was a delightful red. Tom wanted to bite into it.

"You slept here then, Tom?" Harry asked, voice even, his back still to Tom. The scent of frying ham and eggs filled the air.

"Yes, sir," Tom said politely, deferentially, just testing it out. Some Alphas certainly had a thing for dainty Omegas like him calling them sir. Harry didn't look affected though. He only hummed in acknowledgement, focused on the cooking food in front of him.

"And you, James?"

"Teddy's busy. Figured I hadn't seen you in awhile, just wanted to visit," James replied. Tom hummed silently, taking note. So _that_ was his Alpha's name.

It didn't take long before Harry was levitating the newly cooked food into plates, bringing it over to them with practiced ease. He clapped a fatherly hand on James' shoulder and then sat down, right in front of Tom.

They started to eat, Tom practiced in his manners, James clearly not.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly and then looked up, clearly unable to meet Tom's eyes. Every time he tried, his eyes would catch on Tom's inappropriately bared neck, just for a second, before they would immediately fly away.

"So, ah, you and Albus—you're a thing, then?" Harry finally said. James choked, wheezing, and Tom's eyebrows flew up, his fork frozen in mid-air.

"Dad!" James said. He laughed and covered his face. "Oh, Merlin. You don't know?"

Harry blinked at his son uncertainly. "Know what?"

James' lips pursed. He glanced at Tom and they shared a knowing look, both of them amused. Tom said nothing. If James didn't tell his father about Albus sniffing after Scorpius Malfoy, Tom certainly wasn't going to. He could hold it over Albus, after all. No need to play a card just yet.

"We're not," Tom chose to say. He deliberately tilted his head, exposing the curve of his neck, and revelled in Harry's visible swallow. He didn't do the coy, submissive, looking up through his eyelashes trick; it clearly hadn't worked last time. Instead, he said, with a casual air, "I'm still looking for an Alpha."

"Ah," Harry said. He cleared his throat and looked down. He stared at his plate, blinking, before with a shake of his head he continued to eat.

Over his side, James shot him another look, suspicious this time. It was fairly overt for Tom, no subtlety, but he figured subtlety could beat Harry in the head and the older man still wouldn't notice. Clearly, the Alpha needed a firmer touch.

Once they were done eating, Harry made a move to start clearing out the plates, leaving out a few for Albus when he had woken up. Tom immediately stood up to help him.

Harry shot him a friendly, thankful smile, and Tom watched it falter the moment he stepped in, just a little too close. Especially for a supposedly platonic Alpha-Omega pair, a father and his son's friend.

This close, Tom could smell him. Strong, uncensored by any scent blocking soap or charm, and just as delicious as the first time. This close, he knew Harry could smell him too, sweet and receptive. Fertile. Tom let just a bit more of his pheromones come out to play in the space between them, a subtle bit of wandless magic he had mastered early on, and watched in smug delight as Harry's breath hitched.

A beat passed, before Harry stepped away, his throat bobbing up and down. There was a wild look in his eyes.

"No need," he finally said, flustered, and jerkily took Tom's plate. Their fingers brushed, and Tom almost shuddered at the lightning from the point of contact. Harry flushed, clearly affected, and sent their plates into the sink. With a careless wave, they started cleaning themselves.

"I'll go on ahead. See you later, James." Harry's voice was strained. He glanced at Tom, his friendly smile forced. "Nice seeing you, Tom."

He fled.

"I know what you're doing," James immediately accused the moment his father was gone. His arms were crossed, his teeth bared to exposed his canines. Tom's hackles rose, and he just barely resisted from baring his teeth back at the other Omega.

Instead, he only smiled, slow and innocent. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"It's not going to work," James said confidently.

Tom let out an amused breath and only raised a condescending eyebrow.

Two weeks, he thought, and he'd be in Harry Potter's bed.

*

It had been a _month_.

Tom snarled, kicking over his trash bin, and it fell over with a loud clatter.

On his chair, Scorpius made a face. "You _are_ a little too young for him," he said, and Tom rolled his eyes so hard they almost fell out of his face.

"25 years isn't so bad," he said dismissively. Harry certainly looked young and fit, even at 43. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

Scorpius stayed silent, only watched as Tom paced his room back and forth.

"Every time I fake submission, all his interest just disappears!" Tom snarled. "I _know_ he wants to shag, I can smell the arousal clear off him. I don't understand why the usual tricks aren't working."

He had taken to draping himself over the furniture, displaying the length of his body, his flexibility. It was bordering on _whorish_. He had shown off his delicate bone structure, had tried speaking soft and sweet and slow. He had shown up to cook breakfast, the picture of a stereotypical Omega, and Harry had only smiled and said thank you. He had even dressed up in tighter and tighter trousers, going so far as to drop something and bend over. That, at least, had garnered a flustered flush on Harry's cheeks and stuttered excuses before the older man had fled.

But nothing. Nothing more than appreciative looking, Harry's gaze on him so heavy and hot that Tom was burning up with want just from it. Any other Alpha would have been wrapped around Tom's finger already, would have been on their damn _knees_ , desperate for a taste of him.

So far, the only things that had seemed to affect Harry were the most basic things—Tom's neck and scent. And that was it. Everything else had either gotten nothing, or that infuriating look of disappointment Tom didn't understand.

"Be yourself," Scorpius suggested, but even he sounded doubtful at his own advice. He shrugged. "Mother said that works."

"Alphas don't want that," Tom snorted. Most, anyway. They couldn't handle Tom's real personality. He had determined early on that he was far too aggressive.

"Then ramp it up. I'm sure you have something in that devious brain of yours." Scorpius grinned.

Tom hummed thoughtfully. Yes. Yes, he did. He didn't think he'd have to pull it out, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Oh, he wasn't desperate. But Harry Potter certainly would be.

He jerked off that night thinking about Harry Potter, fucking his hole with his fingers until he was sloppy wet, dripping into his sheets, his thighs slick.

What would he be like in bed, he wondered as he spread his legs wide and stroked himself with his other hand. Would he be rough and hard, all that normally restrained power in his thighs, his arms, his shoulders, finally released…

Or would he be soft and sweet, caring, gentle…

Fatherly, still.

"Daddy," Tom hissed out, and he felt his hole squeeze tight around his fingers at the very thought. He groaned, his jaw tight. His head fell back into his pillow, his balls drawing up, his stomach tightening and then—and then he was coming, his back arching off his bed, pleasure shuddering through his very bones.

He slipped his fingers out of his ass, panting, exhilarated, wild and free. He was leaking, slick staining his sheets and his warm spend cooling on his stomach.

Tom Conjured a vial and dipped his fingers, transferring his slick and his seed into it.

He bared his teeth in a savage grin.

Yes, he thought. Harry Potter was certainly going to be desperate.

*

He waited until he knew Harry Potter was out—called for some sort of Auror mission—before he dropped by the Potter house.

Albus opened the door, saw him, and then promptly closed the door.

Tom waited, one second, two, and then smirked when Albus opened the door once more, clearly reluctant.

"Good afternoon," he said and pushed his way past Albus. Al groaned in exasperation and trailed after him.

"Please don't shag my dad," Albus begged. "That's so gross, Tom. He's _old_."

"Do you really think you can tell me what to do?" Tom asked, genuinely amused.

Albus huffed. "I thought I'd at least try," he grumbled.

Tom turned to face him, his hands in his pockets. He played with the vial and smiled charmingly. "But actually, I just forgot something in your room. My Slytherin clasp, if you'd get it."

They stared at each other, Albus suspicious, Tom keeping his innocent façade.

"I'm not James," Al said bluntly, "or my dad. I'm not falling for your shit."

Tom said nothing, only waited patiently, and with another frustrated groan, Albus turned on his heel and left.

Tom immediately sneaked toward Al's father's bedroom, easily finding it. He opened the door and was immediately assaulted with a smell he could only describe as _Harry_ , strong and saturated. It was unmistakably his room, everything in there plainly scent marked.

Tom stepped in, giddy almost, his smile cutting across his face like a knife.

He hiked up the sleeves of his button-down, exposing his wrists and forearms, and inhaled, just taking it in. He could feel pleasure coil down his spine, his cock hardening in his trousers, instinctual, just from Harry's very scent. His eyes strayed towards Harry's bed, and Tom was filled with the urge to jump in, just roll around and drench the sheets with his own smell until it would be a mix of Harry and Tom. As it should be.

He restrained himself. Dense, Harry Potter may be, but even that was too blatant.

Instead, Tom quickly rubbed his wrists on Harry's things. Not all of them, but enough that Harry would be able to smell just a hint of him, would wonder if his mind was playing tricks on him. He would enter his room, Tom imagined, and would freeze in that way he did whenever Tom tried to tempt him. His lips would part, his nostrils would flare. He would think of Tom.

He made his way to Harry's bed, letting his wrist brush against the edge of Harry's side table. He pulled out the vial and then deliberately, let a drop fall in the center of his sheets, watching as it was absorbed. Just one. That was all that was needed.

Quickly, he turned and went into Harry's bathroom. He scent marked Harry's towel, the edge of the counter of his sink, a perverse sort of pleasure filling him at his invisible claim. Humming to himself, he slipped into the shower and deftly uncapped Harry's shampoo in one hand, and then with his other, poured a good three drops of the mix of his slick and come into the half-full bottle.

He swirled it, mixing it in, and almost purred at the thought of Harry unknowingly working in Tom's slick and cum into his hair, his body.

He exited the bathroom, Harry's room, until he was back in the hallway where Albus had left him. The vial he put back in his pocket. He had other uses for it still.

When Albus came back, frowning, Tom simply smiled.

"I couldn't find your clasp," Albus told him and Tom shrugged.

"That's fine." Hard to find what wasn't there in the first place, after all. “I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said. Because really, what was the point if he couldn’t see Harry’s reaction?

*

"Your daddy up?" Tom asked, privately and darkly amused. Al's head rose from where it was buried in his arms. He shot Tom an irritated look, his eyes shadowed, but Tom let it go. Al just wasn't a morning person, and Tom had dropped by unnaturally early. He hadn't wanted to miss a thing.

Al made a negative sound in response and then promptly dropped his head back onto the cradle of his arms.

"Hm," Tom said. He could be patient. But he didn't want to be.

Sighing, he declared that he was going to the loo. Albus made another sound of acknowledgement and Tom snorted. He stood and strode away.

He smelled him before he saw him, and Tom stopped, anticipating rising inside him.

Harry rounded the corner and promptly froze, expression stricken at the sight of Tom. He visibly swallowed, and Tom watched in delight as his face slowly reddened, a wonderful mix of what Tom hoped was embarrassment and arousal.

“Mr. Potter,” Tom purred, flirtatious and playful. He continued walking towards Harry then, predatory yet languid. He wasn’t wearing anything too scandalous, but his neck and his shoulders were exposed once more, his collarbones peeking out of his shirt. He ran an affected, casual hand down the side of his neck, teasingly tracing it, and watched with a vicious, all-consuming pleasure as Harry’s dark, dark eyes followed it.

“Tom,” Harry replied, and _oh_. His voice was throaty and rough, and when he looked up to meet Tom’s gaze, the black in his pupils had nearly swallowed up the green.

Tom leaned in, running a hand through his hair, fluttering it a bit so his scent travelled towards the older man.

Harry’s nostrils flared, his lips parting, and Tom greedily took it in. He wondered if that was the same face Harry had made the night before when he had smelled the fertile, ripe scent of an Omega in his room, unknowing as to where it came from, but knowing it was familiar. He imagined it must be.

After all, Tom had taken care to thoroughly jerk off and finger himself this morning, the scent of his arousal still strong on his skin. Even Albus had balked earlier when he had opened the door for Tom. It was the most perverse, yet most natural perfume that nature and mother magic had blessed them with. Who was Tom to let that go to waste?

Harry wetted his lips, his pink tongue catching Tom’s attention, and Tom shifted where he stood.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked. He didn’t bother trying to make it come off as soft or sweet, he knew better now. Instead, his tone was challenging and Harry’s eyes darkened impossibly further.

Harry took a step towards him, and Tom’s back hit the wall. Thrill and arousal lit up in his veins, and Tom bared his neck, his head tilted upwards. He was dizzy, almost, the scent of Harry thick and heady everywhere around him. He could feel his cock and hole throb, already wet.

Harry let out a shaky groan, his head dropping forwards, his hands on either side of Tom to steady himself on the wall. He skimmed his nose up Tom’s neck, his inhale greedy. His resulting moan was long and drawn out, almost pained.

Finally, Tom thought, savagely pleased. He had waited so long, had been so patient for once, and Harry was here, weak and desperate, entirely at Tom’s mercy.

“I’m not an idiot,” Harry breathed, hot and warm over Tom’s bare neck. Tom spread his legs, coaxing him in, and Harry hissed, pressing in close, so much larger and broader that his frame encompassed Tom’s. His hands clenched on the wall. "I _know_ you were in my room _._ I don’t...” he faltered, a beat wherein he took another shuddering breath, mouth wet against Tom’s scent gland.

“I don’t know what you want,” Harry finally said. Impatient, Tom pulled the older man in close, and they both groaned as their bodies were finally flush against together. Tom could feel Harry’s cock, thick and large and hard against his hip.

“You,” he hissed. “I just want you.”

“You’re Albus’ friend,” Harry said, and yet his hand dropped down to Tom’s side and gripped his hip. His warm fingers snuck in under Tom’s shirt, splaying over his side, his thumb brushing Tom’s ribs, and his touch was scalding, a physical brand that made Tom ache.

“That’s not a no,” Tom breathed, fanning over Harry’s shock of messy hair.

A beat, a pause, and then Harry was pulling away, his fingers, his heat leaving Tom with a gentle, “No.”

Tom didn't let him. He snarled, irritated now at finally having what he had wanted, just for Harry bloody Potter to have another stupid, useless, moral crisis. Anger and arousal burned side by side, Tom's self-control wracked to pieces, and he wasn't thinking anymore.

He grabbed the front of Harry's shirt and then spun them around with all of his strength, his anger focusing his magic and helping him to push Harry up against the wall where Tom had just been pinned.

And—

And—

Harry _melted_ , every muscle in his body loosening until he was lax in Tom's grip, malleable, a full-body shudder wracking top to bottom. Tom watched, stunned as Harry almost collapsed against the wall, his head falling back until his neck was bared submissively to Tom. The only thing keeping him upright was Tom's arm over his broad chest.

They stared at each other. Harry's eyes had already been dark and aroused, but now they were wild. Feral. _Desperate_.

Their positions were completely reversed. If Harry had wanted him before, had been hungry for it, now—now he was ravenous. He looked at Tom as if he _needed_ this, and the shock of responding arousal in Tom was instantaneous, a sudden ache that pained him.

He pushed Harry back harder against the wall, testing, and Harry whimpered, his eyes falling closed.

 _Fuck_ , Tom thought, completely and utterly at a loss for any other word. Fuck.

Tom had always enjoyed the power that he had over Alphas, but this was different. This was unexplored territory.

He moved his hand slowly up until his fingers were wrapped around Harry's throat, the most presumptuous, taboo thing an Omega could ever do towards an Alpha. And Harry let him. Tom squeezed experimentally, and Harry exhaled, a needy little noise. Just the sound of it was electrifying, Tom's cock throbbing in answer, his hole slick and ready now.

"You _like_ this," he said lowly, pleased as he leaned in. Their aroused scents were strong, mixing together in the space between them, and Tom inhaled, taking it deep inside him. It was perfect, utterly delectable. Tom could _taste_ it.

"Tom," Harry choked out. Tom exhaled and leaned in. He used to be shorter than Harry, but his growth spurt from last year had put them almost at the same height. He'd maybe even be taller than Harry someday.

This close, their breaths mingled, Harry's eyes half-lidded. He didn't push Tom away, and Tom could feel his lips almost brush against his. Not a kiss, not yet, but so achingly, painfully close—

And then Harry suddenly stiffened. He shoved Tom off, straightening up, and Tom yelped. He caught himself on the other wall, frustrated. He _had_ him, he thought his magic had been enough to pin the older man to the wall but—

"Good morning, dad," Lily Luna said. Tom resisted the urge to scowl at her.

"Good morning, Lil," Harry said, voice still rough. He cleared it, but it was too late. Lily was looking between the two of them, her eyebrows raised up to her forehead. Then, slowly, she raised her head and took a delicate sniff.

Harry flinched, just as Lily's face twisted into a grimace. Tom didn't even need to take another inhale to know what she had caught. The hallway reeked of their mingled arousal, clear evidence of what they had just been doing.

"'Kay," she said, disturbed. "Bye, dad. Bye, Riddle."

She turned on her heel and went back towards where she came from, not even looking back.

On the other side, Harry stubbornly avoided his eyes.

"I have to—I have to go to work," Harry said. He sounded wrecked. The tips of his ears were red, and Harry nervously wrung his hands out, pulling on his robes. "See you, Tom."

Tom opened his mouth to say no, Harry wasn't going anywhere, but with a speed that came from training and maybe desperation, Harry was already gone.

*

It took another week—a week with Harry clearly avoiding him. Every time Tom visited the Potters, Harry would mysteriously be gone. Busy with the Aurors, Albus had claimed as Tom had scowled. But he knew the truth.

Tom was done waiting.

He had procured some…questionable things. Anyone other than him would feel guilty, maybe, but Tom had never given guilt much thought before. That and shame, regret—all of those other useless emotions that were nothing compared to his ambitions.

Ethics had no place in want.

Scorpius had been reluctant to give him what Tom had asked for. He had been reeking of Omegan anxiety then, distress pheromones designed to call for Alpha protectors. Unendingly useful, those, but Tom hadn't figured out a way to bring them out via magic.

(Yet, at least.)

Scorpius had been reluctant to even procure it for Tom. He had warned Tom of the side-effects, none of which mattered. Scorpius had eventually given in anyway.

Now, Tom was back at the Potter's. Uninvited and without warning, maybe, but the wards recognized him by now and let him in.

He stared at Harry Potter's door and fingered the vial in his pocket, the liquid inside a disarming pink. He pulled it out and eyed it, swirling it around just to check its consistency. A Heat Inducing Potion. It was one of the most heavily controlled substances the Wizarding World had to offer. Difficult, expensive, and time-consuming to brew, it was on the level of Wolfsbane.

There were cheaper, easier versions, but those paid no mind to the safety of the Omega taking it. The Alpha, Rut Inducing counterpart might be safer for Tom, but it was unpredictable, and most Alpha Aurors had measures in place against it.

Theoretically, Harry Potter would have measures for encountering Omegas in heat too, but Tom was counting on the fact that he wouldn't see it coming.

Tom held his breath, flicked open the vial, and then downed it in one go.

And then, with all the confidence he had, he opened Harry's bedroom door and pushed it open.

The scent registered first.

It was different from the last time Tom was here, just last week. It was stronger somehow, more concentrated. Sweat and Harry and—Tom inhaled, his whole body shuddering. It smelt like _fire_ , smoky and hot, that same musky, overpowering scent that had overwhelmed him in the hallway before Lily had interrupted them. The scent of Harry's arousal.

He could feel himself grow wet without prompting, his body's response to the scent of an Alpha so near, so close to the taking. He felt hot. His skin prickled, the fine hair on his arms standing up as his clothes suddenly became uncomfortable.

He eyed Harry, sleeping still somehow even with an intruder in his bedroom. He expected more from the Head Auror, but Tom wasn't complaining. He stepped in closer, each closed inch between him and Harry only serving to intensify the scent of the Alpha. Tom's lips parted, and his next inhale brought with it the fine taste of Harry's arousal, ambrosia on his tongue. Tom swallowed, his mouth dry and his tongue heavy, and it was just as much instinct as it was his own choice to start stripping.

He dropped his shirt, his trousers, his pants down to the floor, his body wracked now with spine-tingling shudders. He wanted. He _needed_.

There was nothing to stop him from climbing into Harry Potter's bed.

Tom's mind was still clear, unfazed by his steadily approaching Heat. His body was different. He was sweating, the warmth of it gathering at the small of his back, his chest, and he was aware of he was _panting_ , his hole slick now and dripping clear fluid down his ass, his thighs.

He pulled off the sheets and climbed into Harry's bed, thrilled and desperate to touch, to taste, to _be_ touched and tasted. With the sheets off, he could see Harry in full. He was laid out so beautifully against his sheets, the flex and dip of his muscles telling of his strength and power.

Harry Potter was the consummate Alpha, the kind that other Alphas wanted to be, and Omegas wanted for themselves. He had the trappings of one without the arrogance or misogyny associated with his dynamic. Confident and headstrong, but never one to impose his will on others.

Tom's eyes roamed, taking in everything at once. Harry's face was lax with sleep, peaceful for once. He would have looked younger if it weren't for the shadow of a beard forming on his face, days old. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and Tom wondered if maybe Albus had been telling the truth, if Harry actually _had_ been busy with the Aurors. Even so, it didn't excuse how Harry was still deep in sleep, his training somehow not alerting him to the intruder now in his bed.

Maybe his scent marking had something to do with it, Harry so used to his scent in his room now.

Or maybe it was the spells he had layered over himself, thick, and not all of them entirely strictly legal.

Either way, Tom was reaping the benefits now. Harry before him, his arm up behind his head. His lips parted slightly as he exhaled, his other hand resting on his exposed stomach, shirt hitched up just the barest bit to expose a strip of tantalizing skin.

There was a buzz underneath Tom's skin now, insistent and unable to be ignored. He was painfully hard, his hole aching to be filled, and the only solution to his consuming, desperate need was the Alpha in front of him.

Tom reached out, his fingers hovering over that strip of skin between Harry's shirt and trousers. It took less than a second of thought before he let himself touch, giddiness exploding inside him at the feel of smooth skin under his fingertips.

He swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down, and then moved his hand until he could trace the hair under Harry's belly button, just running the tips of his fingers through it.

Harry shifted, his eyebrows scrunching, and Tom pulled his hand away.

He couldn't wait any longer.

He lifted his leg and then hoisted it over Harry's firm thighs until he was straddling the older man, hovering over his lap, fully nude while Harry was still dressed. He was reeking of heat now, his mind dazed and light, his body sweating all over. When he sat down, settling himself over Harry's groin, he couldn't resist from groaning, low and pleased.

Harry made a sound, soft and confused, and Tom leaned in to swallow it up, finally kissing him.

"Mhm," Harry grunted against Tom's mouth. Harry's lips were dry and chapped, his stubble rubbing against Tom's mouth, but Tom didn't pull away, tilting his head and deepening the kiss, his hands clenching against Harry's sleep shirt. He moaned into it, pushing his tongue past Harry's slack lips, just taking and taking what he wanted, his very blood burning now. He was so hot, his hands trembled against Harry's chest.

"Tom," Harry breathed, pushing him away, his voice thick with sleep. His green eyes were dazed, not fully awake, and he looked lost and confused.

And then Harry inhaled and immediately choked, his eyes bulging, his hand flying up to his nose to cover his mouth. He hurriedly sat up and shoved Tom away, Tom falling flat on his ass, and Harry scrambled away until his back hit his headboard.

"Tom," he said, and it came out broken, his voice cracking. "You're in _heat_."

Harry's pupils were blown wide, only a ring of green left that wasn't swallowed by black. He reached underneath his pillow, groping for his wand, and Tom snarled, feral.

His higher functions were completely overwhelmed, Tom in full-blown heat now, spurned on by Harry's proximity and saliva. He launched himself at Harry, his teeth bared, tiny canines compared to Harry's impressive fangs, and Harry grunted as Tom pinned him against the headboard, his wand falling to the side of the bed.

"Why—You're naked, Tom, what—"

"You say you prefer Alphas, but I know better," Tom breathed, and it practically steamed over Harry's face, Tom's temperature ramping higher and higher. Harry's eyes fluttered closed, and Tom knew the scent of him now was sweet and strong and tempting. "You just want someone who'll _dominate_ you."

Harry's breath hitched on his groan, his mouth falling open. He took in a shuddering breath, his hands in Tom's grip flexing as they opened and closed. Tom had been witness often enough to know that the lack of wand was nothing, that Harry could so easily push him off again with his own strength, never mind his magic.

But Harry didn't. He did nothing, barely even struggled. He was there, pinned underneath Tom, by his own choice, putting himself underneath Tom's tender mercies.

He could practically taste Harry now so near him, the scent unnaturally strong and thick on his tongue. It felt like he was everywhere, surrounding Tom, inside his very veins. It was muskier, deeper, a note to it that spoke of virility, and Tom's lips spread into a savage grin.

Harry was going into Rut.

Harry groaned again, his struggles weak now as he bucked his hips, desperate to be touched, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head.

Tom smiled at him, cruelly, viciously pleased at the evidence of their compatibility. He settled down onto Harry's lap, and a shocked noise erupted deep from Harry's chest. A visceral satisfaction hit him at the feel of Harry hard and straining in his pajamas, thick and firm against Tom's bare arse. He grinded downwards, and Harry keened at the friction on his aching cock, his knot throbbing in his pants, and Harry made a move again to try to break free from Tom's flimsy grip, but it was no good.

Harry _wanted_ this.

"You want this," Tom stated it out loud. He couldn't help it, he wanted to hear it, his ego patiently waiting in his chest to be stroked. "You want _me_."

"I do," Harry grit out. He bared his teeth, but it wasn't a threat, wasn't even close to the one he was very much capable of. "But Tom, you're so _yo—"_

Tom rocked his hips against the line of Harry's cock, and he laughed as Harry threw his head back, baring his neck and hitting the headboard behind him as he groaned. Tom was leaking onto Harry's pajamas now, precum and slick, and the slide of his arse against Harry's groin just made him ache for something inside him.

"Keep your hands there," Tom snapped, squeezing Harry's wrists for good measure. He hesitated, just for a second, before he took his hands away. Harry swallowed, the bob of his throat tempting, tantalizing, just begging for a bite. He kept his hands there.

Tom's mouth watered, his teeth itching, and he looked away to focus on pulling Harry's trousers and pants down.

They both groaned as Harry's cock was exposed to the cool night air, the head of it painfully red and leaking clear fluid. Tom had known it was thick just from how it had felt against him, but seeing it was _different_. The beginning of a knot was already starting to swell at the base of Harry's cock, Harry delving further and further into his Rut. Tom's mouth watered, and he reached out and took Harry in hand, a deep hunger stirring in him at how it felt, the skin velvety smooth.

"Tom," Harry said, and his voice cracked, needy and almost pitiful as he rolled his hips upward, fucking into Tom's grip.

"Don't move," Tom ordered. There was no Alpha undertone to it, nothing that demanded obedience, just Tom and his own power. Harry shuddered and bowed to his whims as if it was nothing. As if Tom wasn't an Omega. Arousal lit up in him, wild and bright, and Tom hissed as he tightened his grip, stroking Harry's cock.

"I want—" Harry bit down on what he was supposed to say, his jaw hanging open as he panted. He looked away, his face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and arousal and the hormonal rush of heat and rut.

"Tell me," Tom urged. "Tell me what you want."

"I want to touch you," Harry blurted out, his eyes wild. His fingers twitched at his sides, still where Tom had placed them. "Please," Harry said without prompting, and Tom felt himself smile, the corners of his mouth pulling.

He had wanted Harry bound and desperate for him, the older Alpha helpless to Tom's whims and needs, Tom taking his pleasure without care from Harry's body. But the Heat wracking his mind and body couldn't be ignored, made him reckless and needy, and so Tom said, "Then touch me."

Harry didn't wait for further permission, reaching out to pull Tom closer to him. His hands on Tom's waist were calloused, large and firm, the width spanning over Tom's hips, and when his mouth dropped to Tom's chest, taking one of Tom's nipples into his mouth, Tom couldn't help but let out a strangled sound.

Harry's stubble rasped over his heat-tender nipples, oversensitive and raw, and Tom clapped a hand over Harry's nape, his teeth gritted tight against the unexpected pleasure. He felt himself getting pulled into the mindless haze of Heat and arousal, his self-control shot to pieces, and Tom immediately detested it.

"Stop," he gasped out, and Harry immediately yanked his head away, his lips pink and just begging to be bitten. Tom took a moment to gather his wits back to himself, pushing the haze of heat away as best as he could before he leaned down to kiss Harry hard, nipping at his bottom lip. Harry groaned into his mouth. His hands tightened on Tom's hips, not tight enough to bruise, but enough to remind Tom that an Alpha was underneath him, pliant and just waiting for Tom's orders.

"Go down," he said, just vaguely aware that he was no longer capable of anything beyond one or two-word orders. He pulled Harry impatiently until Harry got the clue, wiggling until he was lying back down on his bed, his back pressed to the sheets, and Tom still very much in his lap and on top of him.

Harry was still wearing his shirt, his trousers and pants tucked beneath his balls, cock jutting out proudly in the air. Tom climbed up, over his chest, his shoulders, until he was hovering over Harry's face. Harry said nothing, his eyes dark as he took in Tom's bare body, his hands wrapped around Tom's thighs.

"You get to touch me," Tom started, his teeth gritted in a perpetual clench, "because I'm _letting_ you. You'll get to fuck me because I _want_ you to."

Harry made a weak sound, almost a whimper, and Tom's hole clenched. He was going to be dripping on Harry's face soon.

"And," he continued in a hiss as he leaned down and gripped Harry's hair, hard, forcing the Alpha's face upwards. Harry grunted, his nails digging into Tom's arse and thighs, and Tom grinned down at him, basking in his own power. "You'll do what I want, when I want. Won't you?"

"Yes," Harry rasped, his voice throaty and raw. "Yes, Tom."

Tom shuddered, weak-kneed, and he lowered himself onto Harry's face. The sound of Harry's gratified moan made his cock twitch and he let go of Harry's hair to fist himself, grip tight around his cock. He hissed in pleasure at the first touch of Harry's tongue against his hole, the broad swipes of his tongue as he tasted Tom's slick.

Harry's hands on his arse and thighs were trembling, his fingers brushing against Tom's rim even as his tongue delved inside of Tom, stabbing into him, the stubble on his cheeks and chin rubbing against Tom's arse and inner thighs. Pleasure slid down his spine, Tom's stomach tight with need and want.

Everything was so hot, and it felt so good, but it wasn't enough. He wanted more.

"Finger me," he said hoarsely, and Harry immediately moved his hand, pressing a finger and pushing it inside. Tom was so open, so wet, that it slid in without resistance, sucking him in greedily. Harry moaned again against his arse, his hands worshipful as he fingered Tom open.

Tom felt like a king on a throne, a lord, every press and pass of Harry's fingers inside him a silent praise. It was what he _deserved_.

Harry slipped in another finger with no difficulty and then expertly curled his fingers inside Tom, rubbing against Tom's prostate. Tom snarled, his free hand slamming against Harry's wall as he fucked himself downwards on Harry's fingers, his other hand still furiously stroking his own cock.

"Come on," Tom hissed. His nails scratched against the wall, his whole body so fucking hot. He was sweating intensely now, thighs damp with sweat and slick and rubbed raw from beard burn, his back drenched. "More."

Harry licked around his fingers, vocal in his enjoyment as if Tom was the one sucking him off. He kept going until it was sloppy wet, until Tom was shaking in his grip, overheated and overwhelmed. It was good, so much better than anything or anyone Tom had ever had. He should have been going after older men all this time, Harry's experienced fingers and mouth already pushing him close to the edge in just a few minutes.

Tom cursed, his thighs tensing, and somehow, impossibly, Harry just _knew_. He slipped in another finger inside Tom and rubbed insistently against Tom's prostate, his tongue slick and eager and sending pleasure all the way down until Tom's toes were curling, his balls drawing up, and—

Tom was coming, his cry of pleasure tearing itself violently from his throat as he spilled over his fingers, his own come almost burning from his Heat, his hole wet and loose. He pushed himself away from Harry's face, panting, and his dick twitched valiantly at the sight of Harry's face.

He looked almost deliriously blissful. His eyes had a dazed, red tint to it from his Rut, his mouth parted, and his face and stubble were wet from his own saliva, from Tom's slick. Tom bent down to kiss him open-mouthed, so _so_ aroused at the taste of himself on Harry's lips, at how the Alpha was drenched in Tom's scent and claim. He couldn't help but reach out to cup Harry's cheek, smearing his come all over Harry's face. The smell of it would stick and stay long after Tom's Heat, everyone would be able to tell what they had done.

Harry let him, his hands petting Tom's sides, unconsciously gentling him through Tom's persistent trembles. Tom licked into his mouth, tongue eager and chasing after the remnants of his own slick. Narcissistic, maybe, but Tom had never claimed to be anything different.

Harry pulled away, his mouth open, and he took Tom's fingers into his mouth, lapping at Tom's come. His tongue delved in between Tom's fingers to get the last of it, warm and pink.

"You taste so _good_ ," Harry moaned around his fingers. He squeezed Tom's hips, reaching back to cup Tom's ass and spread him wide. "Fuck, Tom."

Tom pulled his fingers away and leaned in to nip and suck at Harry's jaw, his neck. His bites didn't break skin, didn't come close to a mating bite, but Harry was keening underneath him, moaning helplessly. He slid his teeth against Harry's scent gland, and Harry groaned, low and desperate as his nails dug into Tom's side.

He pulled away and slipped down, pulling Harry's trousers and pants further down until they were mid-thigh. He rucked Harry's shirt up, exposing his firm, defined stomach, his Auror training useful in this at least.

He stroked Harry's cock, squeezing at Harry's forming, pulsing knot, and Harry moaned helplessly.

Harry reached down to urge him along, and Tom slapped his hands away, baring his teeth aggressively. He couldn't think straight. He couldn't concentrate. He needed the control back.

"Hands above your head," he snapped. "Don't touch me."

Harry let out a plaintive, throaty sound, his eyes half-lidded. He looked as if he was melting into his sheets, body somehow lax and loose, a stark contrast to Tom's own high-strung nerves. Harry raised his hands over his head, panting as he met Tom's eyes and _obeyed._

It would never get old, Tom thought, satisfaction running hot through his veins. He savored the sight in front of him, this big, powerful Alpha submissive to _him_ , so much slighter and physically weaker.

Tom lifted himself, his slick, loose hole brushing against the tip of Harry's cock and Harry grunted.

"Tom," he said, and his voice held a hint of warning, his gaze clear for once even with the haze of Rut. His hand twitched towards his wand, still at the side of the bed where it had dropped. "Protection."

Tom looked him in the eye. "No," he said. He sank down.

They both immediately moaned, Tom throwing his head back, his thighs clenching. Harry was so thick, his cock spreading Tom open just the way Tom liked it, a twinge of pain only increasing the pleasure.

Harry just barely stopped himself from bucking into Tom's wet heat, his jaw tight, his eyebrows scrunched together. "I—I can't, you're in Heat, you might—"

"Get pregnant?" Tom said, delighted. He bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile, grinding down inch by inch Harry's knot pressed against his fluttering hole. Harry moaned, and Tom laughed, reaching down to steady himself with a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Do it," he dared, and Harry shook his head even as he gasped, the muscles in his biceps tensing over his head, his throat bobbing. "Knock me up."

Harry moaned, his cock throbbing inside Tom. "I shouldn't," he slurred, but the feral edge in his eyes spoke differently, showed the truth in what he really wanted.

Tom raised himself up and then drove himself down again, fucking himself onto Harry's cock. He had wanted this, planned for this, but the words that spilled out of his mouth were dredged up from the Omega in Heat inside of him.

"Come on," Tom gasped, eyes greedy over the twist of Harry's face. "Fuck a baby into me, daddy. _Breed_ me."

Harry's eyes flashed and he snarled, his hands leaving their place over his head to touch but Tom growled, snapping his teeth at him. Harry froze, and Tom growled again, angry and warning, his hole clenching around Harry's cock, and Harry settled back.

His chest was heaving, his eyes wild and red and his teeth bared. The friendly, kind Harry Potter was gone, a feral beast in his place. A feral beast…and Tom held the leash.

"Stay," Tom snapped, and Harry did. Tom felt his lips split into a wide smile, overwhelming pleasure filling him, and he rose up. He rode Harry hard and rough, his hole oversensitive, thighs tender from beard burn, but he couldn't stop.

He clutched onto Harry's broad shoulders, using them to hoist himself up and fuck onto Harry's cock. He chased after his own pleasure, groaning as the head of Harry’s cock brushed against his prostate with every pass.

Harry's whole body was straining now, tense with the drive to obey and stay still for Tom. His knot was starting to catch on Tom's rim, a tease, and Harry was panting.

"Tom," he hissed, barely understandable, his words rushing out of him like a broken dam. "I'm so close, please, let me knot you, let me come, baby, please."

"No," Tom gasped. "Don't. You're _not allowed._ "

Harry keened, his head falling back, and it exposed his vulnerable throat. Tom bent down, hips still furiously working over Harry's cock as he tried to drive himself into another orgasm. He placed his teeth at the center, the sharp edges scraping along the beginnings of more stubble against Harry's throat.

"Yes," Harry moaned, tilting his head back further. Above him, his hands clenched into his pillow, still so desperate to obey and please. Harry's shirt was rough against Tom's over-sensitive chest, his nipples catching on the cloth.

Tom nipped at Harry's throat, licking at the pink mark, consumed now by a fiery need to mark and claim and own.

"Harder," Harry gasped. "Bite me harder."

Tom bit down again, almost breaking the skin, and Harry cried out. The sound of cloth ripping made Tom look up, and he smirked at the sight of Harry's shredded sheets.

His stomach was tight; Tom so close now, pushed to the edge just from marking Harry up so blatantly that no other Omega could contest his claim.

"Go," he breathed into Harry's ear. "Touch me. Knot me. _Breed_ me."

Harry let out a strangled groan, surging upwards, his hands immediately dropping to Tom's sides as he pulled Tom in close, forcing him down, his knot pushing against Tom's hole. They let out twin sounds of pleasure as it finally popped in, locking them together, and it only took a few rocks of Tom's hips, his arse pressed flushed against Harry's pelvis, before he was coming once more.

His come splattered in between them, all over their stomachs, and Harry let out a choked whine, his grip tightening on Tom's hip. His cock and his sizeable knot throbbed in Tom's raw, sensitive hole, and Harry shuddered as he dropped his head on Tom's shoulder.

"Can I—"

" _Yes_."

Harry came, spilling hot and wet inside Tom, filling him up so well that Tom couldn't help but squirm in his lap, panting at how it felt. Harry moaned low into Tom's neck, mouthing at his scent gland, and Tom reached up to press a hand over his nape, cupping the back of his skull.

"Bite me," he urged, and with absolutely no hesitation, Harry bit down _hard_. Tom hissed in pain, his cock twitching in between them as Harry broke skin, his magic settling over Tom, thick and heavy. He was still coming, and the Omega in Tom thrilled in reckless joy. There was no way it wouldn't take, not when Tom's heat still had a few days left, days for Harry to thoroughly and utterly breed him.

The bond wavered, waiting for Tom, and Harry pulled away. His eyes were bright, clearer now than earlier, the same Harry Potter once more. Both their orgasms had temporarily settled the wild animals in them that demanded them to fuck and breed, their minds fully theirs once more. Harry's lips were parted, exposing his teeth bloody with Tom, and Tom smiled at him.

Harry exposed his neck, and he said nothing, simply waited.

Tom didn't hesitate. He leaned in, Harry's knot pulling almost painfully at his sore hole, and he clamped his teeth on Harry's neck. Harry groaned as he bit down, Tom's eyes fluttering closed at the taste of iron. His magic rose and settled over the both of them, sealing the bond. It would have to be renewed during Tom's next Heat and Harry's next Rut—which would be simultaneous, most likely, one triggering the other with how compatible they were—but for now, this was good enough.

Tom pulled away, and Harry gazed at him silently. His cheeks were flushed, his messy hair even more of a mess than usual, but he looked satisfied, well-fucked. Tom couldn't help but wonder if he regretted it, if the only thing that kept him from leaving was the knot still locking him together.

Harry surprised him.

"Do you think…" He trailed off, his hand falling in between them to gingerly touch Tom's belly, just a little swollen from all the come Harry was pumping into him. Tom's arse clenched against Harry's knot, milking it even more, and Harry let out a strangled groan.

"Well, if not…" Tom grinned. "We can try again."

"Insatiable," Harry breathed, pulling him close for another deep kiss. Tom took the lead and Harry let him, his mouth languid and warm against Tom's. He pulled away and rested his forehead against Tom's, breathing labored. "You're a horrible, horrible boy."

"You like it," Tom declared and Harry sighed.

"I do," he muttered, sounding shocked at himself. "Merlin help me, I do."

*

"Breakfast," Harry muttered against his mouth. "Sit still, will you?"

"Hurry," Tom said, and Harry rolled his eyes. He was much less receptive to orders outside the bed, unfortunately. They had taken a quick break from their romp in the sheets to eat, both of them fresh from a shower. Tom could barely smell himself on Harry now and it annoyed him.

He just wanted to go back into Harry's bed, let Harry fuck and breed him until Tom was thoroughly knocked up. Even if now, Tom's arse already ached and left him uncomfortable in his chair.

Harry pulled away and Tom watched him go, his eyes roaming Harry's back appreciatively, the play of muscles a delightful sight for sore eyes.

It was pleasantly and comfortably silent for a few minutes as Harry made to cook breakfast, until the door creaked open.

"Tom?" Albus asked, incredulous at seeing him in their kitchen table. "What are you—" he turned towards his dad, helpless and wide-eyed, "Dad, what is he doing here?"

Harry looked up from the bacon he was cooking, a distinctly embarrassed look on his face. "Er," was all he said. He reached up to scratch at the raw, fresh bite mark high on his throat, the rest of his neck littered with hickeys, and Tom saw the moment it registered to Albus.

"I'm having breakfast," Tom said smugly,  drawing Albus' attention back to him and Albus gaped.

Behind him, James entered the room and then stopped, his eyes narrowing. "Oh." He scowled. "It's _Riddle_."

Tom smirked, and then deliberately, he turned fully towards James and tossed his head back, baring the side of his neck where a bite mark in the shape of Harry's teeth laid. James froze, and sadistic pleasure filled Tom.

"Riddle?" he said, darkly amused. He winked. "Not for long."

" _Tom_ ," Harry hissed, and Tom grinned. He eyed Harry in satisfaction.

Tom had gotten exactly what he had wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Tom is manipulative and seductive. major dubcon associated with heat/rut and impregnation.
> 
> me: I'm never going to write an A/B/O fic. I hate rimming. I'm not writing daddy kink ever again.  
> Also me: hm, what if I write an a/b/o/ fic WITH rimming and daddy kink :maxthink:
> 
> -i'm exarite on tumblr as well <3


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